(or); Things I do to entertain myself…

So I have mentioned that I am not an ideal employee… (or husband)… because my mind tends to wander… (what was I talking about?)… When I get bored, my mind does strange things to entertain itself.

Here is one of the things I did while I was working as a delivery driver;

I got one of those little sound effect machines, a cheap toy that had buttons on it that made funny laser sounds and ray gun sounds and alien beeping noises. (You were supposed to use it to relieve stress while driving by pretending to ‘zap’ bad drivers rather than flipping them off or running them off the road)… We were so naive 25 years ago.

I also had a beeper, or I guess it was called a pager, given to me by my boss, that I wore on my belt. This was before most people had portable phones. The beeper just beeped to tell you to call work.

Whenever I ended up in the tall office buildings downtown, and was faced with a long elevator ride, I had a little game I liked to play.

As soon as the elevator doors would slide shut, I would casually hit the test button on my beeper, causing it to beep. I would smile apologetically at those unfortunate people in the elevator with me, and say, “Sorry, that’s my beeper,” and then reach to my belt to shut it off. Meanwhile, I had my other hand in my pocket with the sound effect box.I would wait a few moments, and then push a button to make a new beeping sound. I would once again apologize, telling my fellow travelers that, “That was my other beeper.” Then I would put my free hand into some random pocket and pretend to turn this beeper off.

I would continue doing this, every floor or two, with a different beeping sound and a different pocket each time, until I got bored or had to get off the elevator.For some reason, back in those days, the only conclusion that people could draw about a man that carried five or six or seven beepers, was that he must work for the CIA or a Columbian drug cartel.

But nobody ever said a word to me. This strikes me as funny to this day.

One last quick word on my elevator adventures.

Once I was coming down in an elevator packed with secretaries and receptionists and two uptight business men in suits.

It just happened to be National Secretaries Week… (this exists in California, or at least it did)…

So I said, rather loudly, “Happy National Secretaries Week, ladies,”  which they seemed to appreciate. Then, just because the two business men didn’t even bother to support my sentiment, I even more loudly said, “And Happy National Secretaries Week to you, too, gentlemen.”

One of them sort of sneered, and replied, “We are not secretaries,” in a tone of voice that made it sound as if it was an unforgivable insult to be called a secretary.

“Hey, if it was Christmas, I would wish you a merry Christmas, and I know you ain’t Santa Claus,” I responded with a straight face.

No wonder those secretaries all loved me.

We will return to Driving Miss Crazy after these commercial messages…